


The Virgo Liberation

by Shadows_of_Fire_and_Blood



Series: Roads Less Walked [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock BBC
Genre: Action, Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Death Threats, Drama, F/F, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gang activity, Gen, Gun Crime, Gun running, Human Trafficking, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Manipulation, Pregnancy, Recreational Drug Use, Romance, Songs are involved, gun viloance, same sex relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-19 06:54:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29995569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadows_of_Fire_and_Blood/pseuds/Shadows_of_Fire_and_Blood
Summary: Guns, gangs, and a client with a gripping new problem - for John and Sherlock it’s gratifying to return to normality after the sticky situation of Sherrinford a year and a half ago. Things aren't so easy for Mycroft and Melody however; choices need to be made, discussions must be had, and getting embroiled in Sherlocks’ latest case could have come at the worst possible time, or maybe best.The Game isn’t over yet!
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Male Character/Original Female Character, Original Male Characters/Original Male Characters
Series: Roads Less Walked [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156862
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	1. Nest Of Vipers

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies to anyone who was actually following this story, after some re-thinking, I decided the story was failing to progress in the direction or at the pace I originally intended, But fear Not, this story is still going to be uploaded AND finished - I just need to make some alterations and think about how I can get this fic to progress as I had intended - thanks for your understanding and support to all my readers!

Prologue

A smartly dressed man with black, slicked back hair, spun around to slam his hands down on the surface of his desk in fury, making the woman standing to the side of the room flinch, but the second man, at whom the older mans’ anger was currently directed, dared not so much as blink as he stood, ram-rod straight, on the other side of the desk

“The fuck do you mean they got caught?” the first man, who was clearly in charge of the situation, demanded through his teeth.

The thudding beat of dance music pulsed up from the club below, which could be seen from the thick glass window built into the floor, creating distance between the second, younger man from the desk he stood in front of. 

The woman standing to the side, blond hair attractively messy, and dressed in clothing she was clearly uncomfortable with, given her current situation, was already nauseated by the smell of drink and drugs that seemed attached to her like a second skin, distracted herself from the heated exchange by keeping her gaze fixed on the floor, at the scene displayed through the window. 

The ultraviolet style lighting flashed, creating a dizzying air of discretion as drink and drugs were purchased, ferried in the discrete hand of a scantily clad waitress and 'entertainers'

Several women, like the customers and waitresses, varied from Caucasian, Eastern and Southern Asian, to Scandinavian and Afican-American, danced provocatively on personal stages, sprinkler systems sprayed voluptuous, scantily clad bodies as they performed, gyrating and writhing around and against metal poles in time to the deafening music.

Scattered across the club floor, with the extensive dance floor cordoned off by marble pillars and burly bouncers, luxurious leather couches and seats surrounded the base of several more, occupied by smaller, stages. Punters talked over drinks with other business associates, others sat with wives and girlfriends, some with paid company, ranging from one to several. 

The blond woman watching from the office above the scene, watched miserably, with a hand to her mouth, as though about to start gnawing the baby pink false nails on her fingers, was trying to let the thud of the music drown out the argument ensuing in the room with her.

Down in the club, a dancer hung upside down from the floor of one of the stage, dressed in a soaking wet white button up t-shirt and thong, while a man, seated with his back to her, leant his head back to meet her gaze, raising a hand he used his index finger to place a small white pill on the tip of her tongue, which she curled back into her mouth and lifted herself up straight, continuing to dance as she swallowed.

Back in the Office above, the first man sighed in frustration

“Fine, let them stew in a cell for a week, then get your contacts at holding station bail them. And make sure those ‘Roaches’ know what will happen if they fuck up ever again.” he ordered

The second male, possessing darker skin than his companion,had started to look more relaxed, and reached into his jacket and pulled out a revolver

“You got. I’ll take care of it, H.” 

The woman, still fighting the nausea in her gut, dared not intervene in any way, and simply watched the club scene; not unlike the way a queen might survey her kingdom, had it not been for the empty, dead expression in her eyes.

‘I can’t do this anymore’

Unconsciously, her hands moved to protectively cradle the protruding swell of her baby bump.


	2.  Political Engagement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft and Melody talk politics - after a fashion.

Mycroft called Melodys’ name as he closed the front door after deciding to return home during his 2 hour lunch. Receiving a call of

"Up here!” was beckoned in response and Mycroft made his way upstairs to the bedroom.

Mycroft found his wife, dressed in a pair of underwear and an oversized t-shirt; even from here, with Melody sprawled across the center of the bed, with sections of newspaper scattered around her, he could tell she wore nothing underneath, to his silent delight. Her sphynx kitten, Cashmere had claimed the celebrity gossip pages and had curled up to take a nap while Melody skimmed through the political sections. 

"He clearly gave no consideration for Britain when he named his daughter." 

Mycroft gave her a confused look and Melody shrugged and turned back to the newspaper

"Clinton. I mean, well, can you imagine the Prime Minister on the phone, telling Clinton he has just spent Saturday evening watching Chelsea getting spanked by Cavani from Man-United…”

She gestured with a comical expression, tapping the open newspread infront of her with the back of her hand

“And that’s war” she insisted, glancing at Mycroft with a knowing look before turning back to the paper

“Not to mention Boomerang bloody Blair…hey!”

Melody was suddenly rolled onto her back, with Cashmere barely darting out of the way just in time before speeding out of the door, while Melody found herself in a heated kiss with her husband - not that she was about to complain. The tip of Mycrofts’ tongue dragged over the roof of her mouth once, but he pulled away before she could respond

“You, my dear, are ever so alluring when you speak about politics” he told her firmly, stroking Melodys cheek with one hand, feeling and seeing it flush slightly, from both the compliment and excitement it seemed. 

Melody smirked, in the process of catching her breath after the surprise ‘attack’ without answering she wrapped her legs around Mycrofts’ waist, pushing a hand back through his thinning hair with a lustful sound. Within several minutes, the newspaper, which had been crinkling beneath the amorous pair to a distracting degree, had been shoved aside, along with Mycrofts’ jacket, waistcoat and shirt, and Melodys’ T-shirt, 

When the need for oxygen forced them apart, Melody, already shifting agitatedly beneath him, reached for the fastenings of her partners trousers as his followed the length of her neck, hardly noticing when the chain of her Shuriken necklace got in the way, but Melody stopped suddenly and caught his attention

“Do we...have anything?” she asked, slightly breathless, gripping his shoulders firmly

Mycrofts’ expression told her the answer and he said

“No, we’re out if I remember correctly” 

Disappointment edged his voice though he tried to hide it, however the same sentiment was reflected in Melodys’ feature, yet she relaxed after a moment

“Well, it doesn’t matter. I'm on the pill, don’t worry about it” she reassured, re-focusing her attention to her abandoned task

Mycroft released a shuddering breath

“If you’re certain…”

Though he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to backtrack by this point. His teeth clenched as Melody rolled her hips against his and drew short, bitten down nails down his side

“Please Mycroft...It's been weeks..." she urged, ducking her head to give his neck and throat the same attention he had offered her

“How long do you have?” she asked urgently, pushing his trousers down as far as she could in their current position

Mycrofts’ cool fingers skated up the curve of Melodys’ spine, which was arched so much that it left several centimetres of air between the bed and the small of her back 

“Two and a half hours” the lie slipped easily from his lips

‘ Sod it’ he thought, Anthea would cover him, it was what she paid her for.

The soft caresses at her back made Melody whine softly, making Mycroft strongly consider taking the entirety of the rest of the afternoon off, especially as they shed what remained of their clothing and their actions became more urgent.

When Mycroft emerged from the bathroom later on, showered and immaculately dressed as always, giving no insight into how he’d spent his time away from the office, he knew he was going to be an extra 20 minutes late, calculating in the traffic, red lights and so on, but as he adjusted his tie and his gaze fell on Melody, who hadn’t bothered to move, let alone put on any clothes or even out her now incredibly messed hair, she grinned at him and Mycroft failed to remember the significance of that thought - he was the most powerful man in the British government, what was an extra 20 minutes? 

Knowing he had to leave, Melody got up to rest on her knees as her husband approached her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and his hands fell to her hips

“You realize that this means I shall have to work late?” he told her regrettably

Melody nodded

“Dinner?” she asked

Mycroft kissed her temple, wanting to linger in her relaxing presence just a while longer before returning to the mind-numbing goldfish he was surrounded with at work

“Not sure” 

Melody lent into him

“ I had a text from John, he and Sherlock have a case, he wants’ me to go and take care of Rosie and they don’t know what time they’ll be back anyway” she stated

Mycroft pulled away slowly, letting his hands travel up either side of Melodys’ rib cage. He was silent for a moment before Melody tapped his temple gently

“Do I need to unplug you and plug you back in again? You froze on me for a minute there” she chuckled, smoothing the lapels of Mycroft's suit jacket under her palms

“What are you thinking?” she asked gently.

Mycroft had no idea why the idea had struck him, or why he felt the need to suggested, if it was even the right thing to suggest, but he did so anyway

“Why not...bring her here, I’m sure the house would provide an acceptable change of scenery in favor of the hazardous waste bin that is my brothers flat” he said dryly

Melodys’ features creased in confusion

“Well, like I said, I have no idea what time John will pick her up…” she started, MYcroft shrugged one shoulder

“Then she shall spend the night, I shall be working late as I have said, so her presence is hardly going to be an imposition for me. However if you’d prefer sleeping on the sofa of 221B...I won’t have you getting taxis around London late at night” he said firmly

Melody chuckled at his protectiveness, but it slowly dawned on her what he was saying...what he was trying to do.

She took a moment to think

“I’ll….I’ll have her here,I mean, so long as John agrees.” Melody paused

Her jade green eyes met the steel grey of his, Mycrofts’ hands hand left her bare skin, instead his fingers traced lines and thoughtless patterns across her back, down her hip, round her sides and over her torso and chest They couldn’t carry on like this if Mycroft was ever going to make it back to the office

“Thank you, Mycroft”

The words were said with such sincerity that it made the heart which Mycroft still claimed not to have (because it belonged to Melody) felt like it had tightened in his chest. It didn’t take much convincing to reassure John that Rosie would be perfectly fine to have overnight, she had a cot which could easily be folded and put in a cab, and Melodys’ place had more than enough spare rooms, her first thought had been...Evangelines’ intended bedroom, but the idea was quickly and violently shoved away. Melody knew it could not remain frozen in time indefinitely, of course. She wasn’t ready yet.

Mycroft returned to work and Melody quickly showered and dressed, she’d just finished double checking the main rooms of the house, generally making the non-baby inhabited home a little more baby-proof. Rosie had turned 1 just a couple of weeks previously, and was more than sufficient in crawling, to the point that she would disappear from sight as soon as ones’ back was turned, could walk a few steps while holding onto furniture or someone's hand! Melody was astonished at how quickly the time had passed.

Melody exited the living room after ensuring the fire place was secure...not that she planned on leaving the baby alone at any time, the doorbell rang and knew John had arrived.

She stood with Rosie, waving to John and calling goodbye, once the cab had pulled away, Melody decided to take a quick trip to the nearby shops. So, with Rosie strapped into her portable carrier/car seat, they set off, stopping at a small craft store and baby supply shop along with a newsagents for Melody to pick up some basic essentials she knew she and Mycroft were getting low on - including a packet of condoms which was at the top of

Melodys’ list.

Upon returning home, Melody sat the baby seat on the kitchen floor, off to one side and put away what she’d bought. Leaving the bag of newly bought goodies she’d acquired to keep Rosie entertained on the breakfast counter, Melody then began moving the table and chairs, and spread out three large clear plastic table cloths across the floor and hung so that they covered the lower cupboards and cabinets. With Rosie babbling happily and waving her arms as she waited patiently, Melody grabbed the bag of supplies and began setting everything up.

Melody went to Rosie and bent to scoop her out of the car seat pointing at the toddler with her index finger in a mock serious tone

“Now, This is between you and me, if you tell Mycroft I’ll either deny it or tell him it was your idea, understood?” 

Rosie playfully swatted Melodys hand, laughing

Melody nodded once

“Right, I’ll take that as a yes . Now...” Melody grinned mischievously

““Let’s go and get changed and have some fun , ok Rosie?” she chimed enthusiastically, carrying Rosie from the kitchen and taking her upstairs to get ready.

John Watson paced about the pavement, having once again been ‘abandoned’ by his consulting detective best friend, who had told him to stay put until he returned. 

Half an hour ago.

He sighed and lent against a nearby brick wall, checking the time on his phone, when suddenly it buzzed with a text message, at first he hoped it was from Sherlock with an update on the case, instead John saw immediately that it was from Melody, which concerned him but the message contained a few photo files which, with nothing better to do, he opened

There were two or three selfie style photos of Melody with Rosie who was wearing, what should have been, a white baby grow, covered in smudges and smears of bright green, blue, red, yellow and pink paint, along with some kind of hastily, and messy, concoction that was meant to resemble purple staining the childs’ clothing and exposed arms and legs. From what John could tell, almost the entire kitchen floor was covering by a single unrolled piece of paper, and In the background, the plastic table coverings were also slathered with paint, the plastic had at least done its job and protected the kitchen itself from being redecorated, freelance, by a one year old. 

As John scrolled through, a handful of individual, candid photos showed Rosie, clearly enjoying the freedom to create as much mess as possible.

Most of the paint was spread across the large piece of paper spread out across the table cloth on the floor, mostly in shapeless smears, unintended hand and foot-prints, and aimlessly drawn finger lines, among these were several quick pieces obviously made by Melody, such as swirly yellow sunshine, a blue heart, a green and red butterfly. And, of course, a finger painting of a Tadpole. John had been, at first, confused by the nickname, but Sherlock had explained Mycrofts' 'Goldfish Theory' which only excluded Melody, and, by his Lionfishs' decree - Rosie, hence the affectionate nickname, which John didn't mind.

Next was a close up photo of a separate A4 piece of paper which displayed a single adults hand print in green, with Melodys’ name printed underneath, beside it, in the same bright pink Rosie had proudly displayed on her hands in a previous photo was a child' hand-print, with Rosies name neatly written underneath, in Melodys handwriting.

Another photo showed Rosie sitting facing the camera, holding up her hands - covered in pink paint and grinning cheekily. The final two photos were, first, of Melody and Rosie, cheek to cheek, paint on their clothes and skin, with expressions that suggested that both adult and child had just had the best afternoon of their lives. 

John chuckled...he couldn’t remember when he’d seen his friend looking so happy, it had definitely been too long in his opinion, as a doctor, he could see that, while things were still hard, he could see that the damage done by the loss of Mycroft and Melodys’ on baby, Evangeline Holmes, had started to mend - Sherlock claimed to see the same in Mycroft, since he was a far better judge of his composed, outwardly cold older brother, Sherlock assured John that Melody and Mycroft would be fine. And Sherlock did have an agonizing propensity for being right - not that John would ever dare tell him, the prat was arrogant enough as it was!

A second later another photo was sent to his phone, so John opened it, finding that it showed Rosie,in the middle of a squeal of laughter apparently, with a fist to her mouth and wrapped constantly in a warm bath towel - not a trace of paint in sight.

Melody also sent a text

“ **_Hey John, how’s the case? About to give Rosie her bottle._ **

****

**_/Rosie says ‘Night Night daddy x’ /_ **

It was only then that John saw the time - 6:30 and about the time he’d previously suggested Melody put his daughter down to sleep. Lately, though, Rosie had started to wake at varying times in the night for one reason or another and in fact he and Sherlock had a bet on how many times Rosie would wake Mycroft and Melody during the night - but honestly more so at Mycrofts’ expense than Melodys’ John had a fiver on anything between 1 and 5, Sherlock bet on anything over 5.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Chelsea Clinton joke is from an episode of the British comedy Drop the Dead Donkey, and is in no way intended to insult or offend etc.


	3. Tadpoles and Lionfish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A single tear rolled down her cheek, and Mycroft brushed it away, kissing away the salty trail t left behind, and Melody leant into his embrace gratefully.

Melody stirred from her sleep suddenly, immediately alert 

“Ok, Rosie, I’m coming little Tadpole..., it’s ok…” she mumbled in her half asleep state, using the affectionate nickname she’d dubbed Rosie with, only to be stopped by a hand on her shoulder and, instead of the cries of a distressed infant, Mycrofts’ voice interrupted her

“No, my dear it’s only me, Rosie is sound asleep down the hall” he reassured.

Melodys’ shoulders relaxed, getting her bearings, she realized she had fallen asleep lying on her stomach with an open book resting in front of her on the bed. Mycroft sat on the edge of the bed beside her.

“I didn’t mean to wake you” he put a hand to her shoulder , massaging it lovingly 

Melody sat up, rubbing her bleary eyes

“No, no it’s alright. I’ve been up twice with her already, that's all so I assumed…” she said, stretching out the slight stiffness in her arms, checking the time on her phone she saw that it was almost 12am.

She looked at her husband firmly

“Again, Mycroft? I know you said you’d be late but…” 

They’d talked about this, more than once, and Mycroft had, lately, been making a more conscious effort to work only as late as 11pm. After Sherrinford the effect the incident had had on Mycroft was evident, they had come to the agreement that, for the sake of Mycrofts’ health and lack of sleep,he had been making a more conscious effort to be home at a reasonable time. 

Tonight was the third time in two weeks that he’d come home after 11pm, Mycroft kissed his wifes’ forehead, not taking her words as being nagging, or petulant, since he understood Melodys’ concern for him.

“I apologize, dear. Work took longer than it should have, given that Sherlock texted me several times, and I was forced to intervene when he and Dr. Watson had almost been arrested.” he said casually, getting to his feet and removing his shoes, jacket and waistcoat.

Since Sherlock almost being arrested during cases wasn’t an unusual occurrence, the words didn’t faze Melody, who was dressed in black leggings and a maroon colored hoodie, as she marked her place in her book and put it on her bedside table.

As Mycroft finished changing for bed, the distinct and distant cries of baby Rosie could be heard from the room Melody had set up for her stay. Melody sighed tiredly, but shot Mycroft a small smile as she got to her feet animatedly and left the room.

Rosie was more difficult to settle this time and, not wanting to keep her husband awake after he’d worked so late, she took Rosie, the stuffed animal she’d brought with her: a chameleon of different, soft shades of pastel yellow, pink, mint green and lavender. The soft toy, recently dubbed -Essy, by the one year old, had been a gift from Sherlock who had dubbed Bears and Rabbits too common, too boring, and despite everyone else astonishment, the toy now accompanied the toddler everywhere.

Downstairs, Melody made up a warm bottle of milk (generic cows milk not formula) and took Rosie to the living room. For the next half an hour Melody alternated between sitting on the sofa, with Rosie in her lap allowing her to drink what she wanted from the bottle, but several times, Rosie would pull away, rejecting the nipple of the baby bottle. 

Though no longer crying, Rosie just apparently wasn’t tired! Melody patiently got down on the floor and let Rosie toddle around the room, from which the grown woman had removed anything of danger or particular value while other pieces had simply been moved up a shelf or two.

For after finding nothing of particular interest, other than the toys from her changing bag, Melody had left in the living room the day before, Rosie was content in using the surface of the coffee table as support to walk round and round it - the practice would strengthen her legs at least, and the plush carpet meant that, even though she fell back Several times, leaving her a little dazed in surprise, Rosie didn’t cry, but got straight back up to try again, her chameleon toy clutched firmly in her hand.

Melody hung back enough to let Rosie have her freedom, but remained close enough that she was within reach should the child stumble, closing the door as an extra precaution. Melody hoped this would allow Rosie to work off some energy.

Melody clapped as Rosie completed her third lap of the table

“Well done, Tadpole! Look who good you’re getting! You’ll be running rings around your daddy and Uncle Sherlock in no time!” she grinned proudly.

In n attempt to copy Melodys gentle but enthusiastic clapping, Rosie dropped her Essy the Chameleon to bring her hands flat on the table several times, being rather a lot louder than Melody herself

“Sh, Sweetie, don’t wake uncle My! And don’t tell him I said that!” she urged in a loud whisper, putting her index finger to her own lips. Rosie copied, almost inserting her finger up her nose rather than just over her lips, Melody chuckled and reach out

“Come on Tadpole, come to Aunty Mel!” she encouraged.

She held her hand a few inches from Rosie outstretched one, forcing the child to let go of the table and take a shaky step forward, Melody took both Rosies' hands, immediately steadying her, and letting the child walk, rather awkwardly and slowly, towards her. As soon as she was close enough, and about to fall under unstable legs, Melody scooped Rosie up and held her above her head, congratulating and praising her, blowing raspberries on her stomach.

When Rosie began to exhibit signs of tiredness, Melody remained sitting on the floor, eased Rosie into her lap, encouraging her with more of the half finished bottle, which Rosie it took in both hands, patting the thick plastic, with the back of Melodys’ sometimes being in the firing line of the harmless taps of the babys chubby hands. She felt herself smile, that particular, warm smile babies seemed to have the inexplicable ability of conjuring, looking into the babys’ deep blue eyes that stared back at her, Melody swore if her heart could physically melt. 

Mycroft, ever the light sleeper, soon realized that Melody was still gone. He told himself that she was more than capable of handling the situation...but then, if she’d mistakenly fallen asleep with Rosie on the sofa, or if the infant had crawled away without Melody realizing…grumbling under his breath, Mycroft got to his feet and went to find his wife and her young charge.

He could see the soft glow of the dimmed lamplight from under the crack beneath the closed door, and heard Melodys’ soft lilting voice as he moved towards the living room after failing to find her or Rosie in the bedroom down to theirs or in the kitchen.

_Some say love it is a river That drowns the tender reed_

_Some say love it is a razor That leaves your soul to bleed_

_When the night has been too lonely_

_And the road has been too long_

_And you think that love is only For the lucky and the strong_

Mycroft stopped in the living room doorway. Melody held Rosie so that her head rested on the adults shoulder, softly bouncing Rosie. Melody then confidently held the toddler so that her eyes were level with her own.

“You’re not going back to sleep are you Rosie Watson?” she sighed, clearly tired but smiling.

Rosie reached her hands for Melodys cheek

*M...mama…*

Mycroft tensed, and Melody froze; her heart dropped as her cheerful exterior fell away despite her best efforts, unwanted tears sprang to her tired, already sore eyes as she tried to speak normally

“N-no Rosie, sweetie. I’m Aunty Mel,.can you say Mel-Mel?” she encouraged, forcing a smile 

Rosie babbled several incoherent exclamations before trying again

“Mehh-Mehh!”

Melodys’ expression was torn between amusement, and silent agony, yet she brought the child closer to kiss the tip of her nose.

“Ok, I’ll be Aunty Mehh-Mehh, that’s good enough for me!" she said softly.

Rosie gently put her hands to Melodys cheeks and pushed her tiny nose against hers in an innocent attempt at mimicking the action, squealing and kicking her legs, like an excited little frog. Melody chuckled and adjusted her hold on the baby, moving to cradle Rosie in both arms, firmly against her chest, that was when she noticed Mycroft,watching her with a surprising amount of sympathy.

Melody continued 

_And the road has been too long_

_And you think that love is only For the lucky and the strong_

_Just remember in the winter, far beneath the bitter snows_

Meanwhile, Rosie had finally stopped kicking her legs actively, and seemed to be on the verge of falling asleep, seeing this Melody kissed Rosies' forehead and continued to sing while slowly rocking the baby in her arms

_'Lies the seed that with the sun's love_

_In the spring becomes the rose'_

Her voice broke as she tried to hold the last note, but her heart had started to ache, and her hold on the baby tightened, though not harmfully and Mycroft, noticing every minuscule change in his wifes’ demeanor, moved towards her. After being married so long, he knew Melody derived comfort from physical contact, so he wrapped his arms around her from behind.

Melody turned her head to look back at him, a single tear rolled down her cheek, and Mycroft brushed it away, kissing away the salty trail left behind, she leant into his embrace gratefully, with Rosie starting to doze before finally falling asleep in Melodys’ arms.

-

The next morning, Melody woke around 7:30 and went to the room down the hall to where she’d set up Rosies’ travel cot, passing the closed door of Evangelines’ empty room on the way.

Rosie was awake, kicking, grunting and whining indignantly, but she quickly calmed down when Melody picked her up

"Sh, it's ok Rosie, come on, come with Aunty Mehh-Mehh" she soothed, after securing the baby, Melody reached down for her coveted stuffed animal

"Come on, you come with me for a little while, we'll bring Essy as well!" Melody waved the toy a little to get Rosies' attention - it worked and without a sound, Rosie put her thumb in her mouth and rammed the chameleon toy into the crook of her tiny neck and shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song: Bette Midler - The Rose


	4. Tadpoles and Lionfish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently taking Rosie for the night had not only done Melody the world of good, but her husband as well. 

The large bed in the main bedroom was large enough to set Rosie in the middle and let her kick, crawl and play, as well as a one year old could, on the soft surface, with Melody watching over her like a hawk, rolling her back to the center whenever Rosie got too close to the edge - luckily Rosie seemed to take this as part of the game and squealed and giggled when Melody did this

Not ten minutes later, Melody jumped slightly when Mycroft entered, dressed impeccably, as normal, but with a cup of tea in one hand that he put on Melody’s bedside table. His wife was lying on her back and holding Rosie so that she was ‘standing’ on the older womans; torso and Melodys’ knees were bent to add extra support to Rosies’ back.

She lent her head back, looking at Mycroft from upside down, she hadn’t even been aware that he was still in the house until now

“I thought you’d gone to work!” 

Mycroft sat on the bed a few inches away from Melody, a little unnerved with Rosie Watson staring at him but he answered 

“I decided to go in late” he said

Melody noticed his voice was a little...distant? Distracted even as he seemed transfixed on the baby, whom Melody repositioned so that Rosie was sitting on her stomach. It seemed neither Rosie Watson nor Mycroft was about to concede defeat and continued to stare each other down, interrupted only by the occasional fleeting blink or two

Finally Melody chuckled

“She likes you, My!” she grinned, no longer having to address her husband from upside down now that he was sitting beside her. 

Mycroft frowned.

“Doubtful my dear, I don’t believe she has that capacity of cognitive function to make such distinctions between those she likes and doesn’t like” he told her.

Melody wasn’t phased, especially when Rosie suddenly ducked her head, giggling almost shyly as she pushed her face into her own shoulder, and Melody saw Mycroft smirk, thinking her attention was on the baby rather than him, but Melody saw it...the same kind of smile Rosie, or maybe it was babies in general, was capable of drawing from pretty much anyone they came in contact with. 

‘Even the Iceman of the British Government isn’t immune to the full on power of the charm that came with watching a content baby!’ she realized, biting her lips to stop herself from laughing, then an idea struck, but she would have to move fast, and leave no room for argument!

Sitting up with Rosie, Melody looked him innocently

“What time do you have to be at the office?” she inquired, holding up her free hand for Rosie to pat and tug at her fingers

“Not until 11.” 

Had he been more engaged with the question rather than the clumsy movements of the brown haired toddler in his wifes’ arm, he would have definitely seen the mischievous gleam in Melodys green eyes, and With that, Melody got to her feet

“Great, plenty of time then. You can have her while I take a shower” she said, thrusting Rosie into her husbands’ arms, which instinctively tensed in order to support the sudden weight passed to him. 

Before he could speak Melody had darted to the bathroom, only to offer a perplexed Mycroft a quick wave as she shut the door.

At first Mycroft simply...stood there, with Rosie on his hip.

‘Conniving woman’ He thought to himself.

He looked down he saw that Rosie was touching the knot of his tie, not like most children who might grab and pull in enthusiastic curiosity, but rather her tiny fingers stroked the strange, foreign material, her eyes fixed on the vivid red - a pleasant change from the pale pastels she was likely to be surrounded with. Brighter colors were so much better for the development of eyesight and the ability to focus. 

Mycroft was suddenly thrown back many years to being nine years old - but mentally far advanced in his years, and being handed his baby brother for the first time. He had observed his parents handle his little brother enough to know the basics of what to do, despite his mothers gentle guidance. 

Mycroft chuckled to himself, with no trace of self consciousness, un-tucking the tie from his waistcoat. While he was slightly mystified that such a common, everyday item could hold the childs’ interest so deeply, he recalled that John, Sherlock, Molly, or anyone the child had regular contact with didn’t actually wear ties, so perhaps the experience was more novel to the toddler than he’d first realized.

“Well, I’ve been meaning to replace this one for a while” he told Rosie, who was now gripping the tie more possessively, a tiny fist loosened and tightened happily.

She was chattering and babbling incoherently, raising a fist to mouth at the soft material she suddenly found herself in possession of. From what Mycroft could recall of child development, her premolar teeth would be coming in - thus the silken material provided some sort of soothing effect on the, most likely, uncomfortable area - though luckily the pain was not enough for Rosie to cry - which Mycroft was grateful for that least!

Of course, from behind the bathroom door, Melodys’ singing could be heard over the running shower.

_ “-You know he can afford to buy me pearls,  _

_ but only he understands the kind of life I’ve lived!” _

Rosie jolted in Mycrofts’ arms, the way babies do in a subconscious, uncoordinated way, to look up at him, tie still grasped in her hand, a curious, wide eyed expression on her features. Now more accustomed to the warm weight of the baby he had been left holding, Mycrofts’ features creased as he attempted to decipher what the sound might mean. Rosie, however, provided the answer with a gleeful squeal that almost hurts Mycrofts’ eardrums

“Mehh-Mehh!”

Had she been able, and had he not known the absolute absurdity of the idea, Mycroft might have thought the child looked decidedly proud of her statement.

Already more comfortable with handling the baby, Mycroft chuckled.

“Yes, little one. That is your aunt Melody. You’ll have to learn her full name sooner or later, as well as mine I suppose” he said, without as much reluctance as he intended.

Melody harmonized for a moment before continuing the obligatory, personalised rendition of her favorite ‘shower song’ as she called it.

_ “And when He's walking He's looking so fine _

_ And when he's talking He'll say that she's mine!” _

_ He’ll see I'm not so tough… _

_ All because... I'm in love With an uptown guy _

_ Oh, oh, oh, oh _

__

Mycroft adjusted his hold on Rosie so that she was resting against his chest, his general demeanor was unchanged from his typical Iceman persona, but his face at least became more relaxed, if not reflective as he wandered to the window to look out into the yard, and standing so that Rosie could do the same, as much as she was able.

“Yes young Miss Watson, your Aunt Melody loves you, you know.” 

She couldn’t possibly understand him but he felt the inexplicable need to tell her that even so

“She does indeed” he said, distantly, his thoughts turning...darker for a moment

“Almost as much she would have Evang-”

He stopped himself.

“As she would her own. Our own, I don’t doubt.” he added.

He recalled that pained expression Melody had given him last night when she’d been trying to settle Rosie, and felt like he suddenly understood it on a far better level. Brushing off the sudden, unwelcome rush of emotion, he looked down at Rosie, who blinked uncomprehendingly and simply glanced around the room with interest. 

“But I’m sure your aunt will be kidnapping you for another visit soon,” he assured.

There was rarely a lack of clients for Rosie's father and uncle Sherlock, so he was sure Melody would be volunteering one of their spare rooms again whenever she saw the chance. 

Melody exited the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, stopping for a second: Mycroft was sitting on the opposite side of the bed to where she left him, with Rosie sat beside him propped up by pillows, with another beside her to keep her safely tucked in the middle of the bed, Mycroft was in the process of putting a half empty baby bottle on the bedside table, Essy the pastel Chameleon toy, sat on his knee.

Melody smiled; he’d even taken the time to take Rosie downstairs and make up a bottle for the toddler while his wife had been showering. Melody smiled; apparently taking Rosie for the night had not only done her the world of good, but her husband as well. Even so, she felt Mycrofts’ glare burning into her back, yet, knowing he wasn’t truly irritated by her ‘trick’, she didn’t turn even when he addressed her.

“That was not entirely amusing, my dear” she heard him say.

Melody selected a pair of black jeans and pale blue t- shirt which she tossed onto the end of the bed, meeting his eyes with challenge in her expression

“Matter of opinion my love, isn’t that right Rose?” she turned to the toddler - Mycroft had fully removed his tie to allow Rosie to hold onto it while she sat on the bed.

But with Melodys appearance Rosie dropped said piece of attire and reached for her aunt.

“Mehh-mehh!” she called. 

Melody cackled triumphantly, Mycroft looked at Rosie with a feigned expression of betrayal

“Traitor. Just for that I will no longer be bequeathing anymore ties to you young Rosamund Watson” he said gruffly.

Melody laughed, discreetly beginning to change into her day clothes, glancing at her husband over her bare shoulder.

“Lionfish and Tadpole - one, British Government - nil” she said cheekily.

Mycroft shook his head, letting Rosie entertain herself with his tie once more

“For now” he conceded. 

After replacing the tie he had surrendered for Rosie to play with, Mycroft selected a clean one - black this time, and returned downstairs while Melody busied herself with getting Rosie changed and dressed.

Melody, now dressed in dark blue jeans and a loose fitting, white button up shirt, reached the kitchen and found Mycroft, finishing a cup of tea and blueberry scone

“Hope you saved me some this time” she teased as she strapped Rosie into her travel seat.

It would once again have to serve as a highchair for now, after setting it securely on the breakfast counter, away from the edge to prevent any accidents, Melody forced herself to ignore the adventurous toddlers' indignant wails at being restrained and instead set about making breakfast for herself and Rosie.

Like his brother, Mycroft was unable to stop the influx of information she gave him, without saying a word. She’d lost three and a half pounds. She had woken in the night with a headache, which apparently was still bothering her (he could see the vein in her temple - this only happened when she had a headache) and slept for around 6 hours, 3 hours less than her coveted nine hours sleep she prized in order to feel fully rested. 

Melody remained unaware that her husband was gazing at her appreciatively; admiring lean, toned legs, dainty, pointed toes, the hem of her shirt lifted slightly to reveal an inch or so of pale, creamy skin beneath, as well the lines of some residual stretch marks from her pregnancy, she was still self-conscious about them.

Even if Mycroft had been aware of this before, it became even more obvious when, after reaching above her head had left the hem of her shirt had risen, as she rested flat on her feet once more Melody tugged the hem down over her hip securely before spreading jam over the scone she’d cut in half, bringing it over to the breakfast counter, she sat on one of the tall seats, sharing her scone with Rosie, who seemed more than content to suck the jam covered pieces of pastry given to her.

Mycroft put aside his empty cup and looked at his wife

“What time is Rosamund being returned home?” he asked

Melody sucked a smudge of jam from her thumb, giving more to Rosie as she replied

“Actually I have to meet with Jaime at the bar later, as the flat is right next door I’m going to drop Rosie back once I’m done”

After the owners of Speedys had decided to sell up, Melody had purchased the space with part of the gains Mycroft had transferred to her from Moriartys various accounts from around the world - over half had gone to various charities more than two years ago, with a few smaller regular donations that had continued since she’d received the money 3 years ago. 

This still left more than enough for Melody to purchase the business and for there to still be enough of a safety net should the piano bar was forced to close for any reason. Melody hoped this would never happen of course.

Mycroft took the description of Melodys’ plans in his stride, and stated that he had to leave for the office.

Melody put down her glass of water 

“O.K See you later” 

She got to her feet and their eyes met, with Mycrofts’ gaze wandered down to the Shuriken necklace he had gifted to her a few years ago, since then she had worn it with the same devotion as she would an extension of the wedding ring adorning her left hand. She’d only ever taken it off for those terrifying two hours she had been missing after the Sherrinford Incident. 

Mycroft bent to exchange a lingering, loving kiss with Melody. It lasted longer than intended, Mycroft felt that minute tug in his gut that always seemed to accompany every time they were made to bid goodbye - even if it was just for work, but he had learnt to expect it, and no longer questioned it as he once did: accepting it as something that came with the ‘feelings’ he still held for his wife. Melody released a soft moan, her tongue pressing his to the roof of her mouth. Even now, after, or maybe because of everything they’d been through in their years both together and apart, the passion was still very much alive in their relationship.

But the sound of Rosies’, almost indigent squeal, forced them to part and turn to the squirming toddler; Melody with an amused expression, Mycroft with a raised eyebrow and an expression that said ‘May we help you?” 

Melody chuckled, cheeks flushed from the passionate exchange as she turned back to Mycroft, putting her hands to his clothed chest

“Go on Mr. British Government, the country isn’t going to run itself” she told him, pushing her hand against his chest to emphasise her point. Mycroft did so, collecting his jacket, suitcase and umbrella on his way out of the front door.

Having heard the commotion in the kitchen, Cashmere the sphinx cat, who had been lying low since the toddler's arrival, wandered into the kitchen and Melody lifted Rosie from her seat and got down to the cats level, ensuring that Rosie was calm as Cashmere approached with intrigue. 

Melody stroked the hairless feline and took Rosies' hand, to help her do the same - content with the attention, Cashmere purred and rubbed against the side Melodys’ bent knee, the kitten didn’t even fazed when the baby squealed in delight and clapped her hands. 

The rest of the morning was spent simply keeping Rosie entertained until it was time for them to leave for Melodys’ meeting.

Rosie explored the large house, and extensive garden, but since it was colder today they didn’t stay outside for long. Melody then sat on the sofa with Rosie reading to her from a thick, cardboard baby book. This held her attention well enough, but books only hold their charm for a certain amount of time, particularly for inquisitive and active toddlers, and by the fifth reading of the same storybook, Melody could tell Rosie was getting restless.

The shape-sorting game she set out held Rosies focus for an even shorter amount of time - the child became agitated when the circle block wouldn’t fit through the triangle hole, and ended up tossing the object away in near disgust. Even her treasured Chameleon, Essy was given the same treatment. Sighing, Melody picked Rosie up and walked her around the room.

Melody finished packing away Rosies’ things while the toddler crawled around the floor - she was getting tired but not enough to sit still, so Melody called for a cab, grabbed her black leather jacket, tucking a Shuriken into the iner pocket and her phone and house keys in the outer pockets.

As she was locking up the house, the taxi pulled up and the The driver, helped her carry the pre-folded travel cot and bulging changing bag into the trunk of the car, Melody requested that they also take the long way round to Baker Street, once she had Rosie secured in her car seat with her toy Chameleon, Melody jumped into the back passenger seat beside her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song used - Altered version of Uptown Girl - Billy Joel


	5. Eves'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes' Sherlock still does things that are a bit 'not good'

Arriving at her destination Melody went to 221Baker street, leaving the travel cot and changing bag in the hallway, but sufficiently tucked away to stop anyone tripping should they enter. Only to run in to Mrs Hudson as she opened the door to her downstairs flat.

The elderly landlady greeted both Rosie and Melody with enthusiasm, receiving a familial hug from the younger woman while Rosie was in her car seat at Melodys’ feet, fast asleep and clutching Essy the Chameleon.

“Nice to see you Mrs Hudson” Melody smiled, speaking in a low whisper

“I have to meet up with Jaime next door, I just wanted to drop the bag and everything off first - I’ll bring it all up to 221B when we come back” she promised, not wanting Mrs Hudson to think she was going to simply leave it there.

Mrs Hudson nodded in understanding

“Oh, why not leave her here, Melody dear? Then you can focus on your meeting...The boys are with a client right now anyway…” she insisted

Melody tried to refuse, not wanting the older woman to feel obligated to offer to take Rosie

“Oh, Mrs Hudson, no honestly it’s fine…”

But Mrs Husdon insisted, as Rosie was fast asleep, she just needed someone to watch her while Melody was in her meeting. After about 50 thank yous’ and the promise of repayment at a later date for the help, Melody strolled next door.

Melody always, without fail, experienced a sense of pride flow through her upon seeing the unlit sign above the door that had once said  _ Speedy's sandwich bar.  _ Eves’ Piano Bar now took its place, which would be illuminated in purple and white neon writing during opening times, 5:30 - 11:30. Business always seemed to remain steady, and rarely got overwhelmingly crowded with customers, which worked perfectly for the general calm, lounge-like feeling of the establishment.

Melody let herself in to find Jake already there, having arrived a few minutes before their prearranged agreement.

“Hey Jakester” she called across the empty room.

The 30 something year old man looked up and grinned.

“Hey,! Good to see you!” he called back from where he stood, polishing the piano. 

Other than Melody, only Jake could play the piano, but he had far more professional training than his employer, he bragged a little sometimes, but never in a malicious sense, and his partner Jaime was always on hand to reel in Jakes’ ego a little when needed.

Melody walked across the navy blue carpeted floor, down the set of two steps that led to the polished floor of the Piano and performance area, though the word perform was always used lightly at Eves’, customers could be as relaxed or as dramatic as they pleased, should they choose to ‘take the stage’

“Everything set for Friday?” she asked eagerly. 

Jake pretended to look offended.

“What do you take me for? An amature?”

Melody laughed. 

“You’re sure you three can cover until then?” she asked.

She was always slightly nervous that her staff might feel she was taking advantage even though they were all, obviously, entitled to regular leave. Jake waved her off, knowing Melody could be anxious concerning the business and the staff sometimes.

“Roxy, Jaime and I’ve got you covered, Boss. Don’t worry your gorgeous red head about it!” Jake promised before looking at her shoulder length naturally auburn hair wistfully.

“You’re so lucky to have such amazing hair, I’m seriously considering highlights, but Jaime isn’t sold on the idea” he sighed.

Jaime was Jakes’ long term partner and usually tended the bar with Melody or Jake lending a hand when they weren’t performing. Jaime ‘circulated’ which consisted of chatting or sitting with customers.

At Jakes’ comment, Melody rolled her eyes fondly.

“He loves you for who you are Jake, dirty-blonde hair and all!” she joked, ruffling his hair and receiving a feigned look of hurt from Jake.

“Can’t you just call it blonde, please ?” he demanded, and Melody grinned jokingly.

The pair then sat down at the bar and went over the preparations for the weekend and once the planning was done the more they could relax and focus on regular business until then.

Melody exited the bar an hour later, leaving Jake to lock up after he’d finished cleaning while she picked up Rosie, who was still sleeping while being watched over by Mrs Hudson.

Hearing and seeing the front door open, the occupants of the flat turned to look at Melody, Sherlock was sat in his armchair, idly plucking the strings of his violin, apparently too lost in thought to respond to Melodys’ greeting as the auburn haired woman set Rosies’ car seat on the coffee table, feeling the second womans wary, yet intimidating stare following her. 

Melody straightened after carefully sliding Rosie out of the car seat - trying hard not to wake her

“Hi” she smiled at the woman, who looked like she was trying not to cringe back, or run away entirely.

Not wanting to overwhelm her, Melody turned to John, reassuring him that Rosie had been as good as gold, still holding Rosie close to her chest so the toddlers cheek rested on her shoulder as John carefully cooed over his baby girl for a moment, carefully not to wake her and watching fondly as Melody cuddled Rosie close, murmuring affectionately s to ‘her little tadpole

“I’m Melody. You’re Sherlocks latest client?” she asked kindly.

It was then that she realized, for the first time, that the young woman was clearly pregnant. Melody froze for several seconds before beginning to bounce the sleeping baby in her arms, but in the manner of someone with an anxiety disorder would bounce their leg while sitting, she cast another look at the womans’ stomach, but trying to pay more attention to words leaving her mouth as she explained her predicament

“My husband knows I’m pregnant...he doesn’t know I plan to give it away.” she clarified, her palms felt clammy all of a sudden.

The young woman, in an act of nervousness, gathered her unbrushed blond hair and tied it up into a messy bun. 

Melody felt like she’d been punched in the gut and the heart all at once

“You’re...not keeping your baby…” 

John and Sherlock watched Melody carefully, with the latter ceasing the idle plucking of the strings of his violin.

The blond woman frowned 

“ _ No _ , I just made that clear didn’t I ? It’s what surrogacy means” she retorted testily

“Anyway...” she continued pointedly, at that moment Sherlock's phone rang 

"Molly, calling from St Barts, she must have something for us" he said before answering

The Client continued speaking with Melody and John

“The surrogate parents for my baby, they haven't contacted me in two days. That isn’t normal, despite some peoples’ interpretations…”

The stranger offered Sherlock, who glanced away from his video call, smiled very briefly then turned serious again and went back to his call

“As I’ve already said, I’ve had contact with Caleb and Janet every other day for three months, ever since we met and agreed on the surrogacy - they’re lovely people - hence why I was certain they were suitable to take care of my child, Caleb and Janet wouldn’t just fall of the radar, even if they’d changed their minds, not like this!” she insisted, sounding genuinely concerned.

Sherlock re-appeared, speaking with Molly on a video call, but ignored her in favor of his client for a moment

“Other than phone contact, you’ve met them in person, the couple, yes? You’d definitely be able to identify them, yes?” he asked quickly

The client shifted, on alert for any news of the missing couple

“Yes one hundred percent” she stated.

Sherlock turned the screen to his client, who paled alarmingly

“Bathroom, please…” she gulped

John stepped out of her way and pointed to the room she’d asked for, the client then ran own the hall, slamming the door, not a second later the sound of retching could be heard.

Sherlock turned his phone screen back to himself

“Thanks Molly, bye” he said before hanging up, not giving the mortician a chance to say another word.

Melody, who had taken a single step out of the young womans’ way, looked at the stained carpeted floor then at Sherlock

“Considerate as always, brother” Melody said dryly

Sherlock gestured vaguely, not knowing what the fuss was about.


	6. Run This Town

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The predicament of Sherlocks new Client isn't as simple as she'd first led them to believe

John crossed his arms

“... _Nice_ , well done, mate (!) Very helpful” he snarked

Sherlock rolled his eyes

“Well how was I meant to know she would react like that!” he gestured to the closed bathroom door

John replied 

“For gods’ sake Sherlock, she is pregnant, she probably couldn’t keep her breakfast down this morning anyway let alone...that!” 

He pointed to Sherlocks’ phone, with a final irritated sigh.

Melody shrugged 

“Could have nothing to do with the pregnancy, could just have a weak constitution” 

_“...-Screams from everywhere_

_I'm addicted to the thrill; It's a dangerous love affair_

_Can't be scared when it goes down, Got a problem, tell me now’_

“That's me, sorry” she exclaimed

John offered to take Rosie from Melody, who handed her over gently and John went to his bedroom to put Rosie down in her cot, with Melody passing him Rosies’ prized Chameleon plush on his way out.

_Can't be scared when it goes down, Got a problem, tell me now’_

_Only thing that's on my mind...Is who's gonna run this town tonight?’_

Melodys’ phone continued ringing as she rummaged in her jacket pocket, upon finding her phone, she pressed the ‘receive call’ button

“Mycroft?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes at the ceiling. Of course Melody would assign his brother a personalized ringtone, yet he was the only one to see the sliver of silver that caught the light as she snuck her Shuriken out of the inner pocket - concealing it from sight once it was in her hand. 

Meanwhile, Mycroft sat in the back of his Jaguar, phone to his ear, several files and documents in his lap.

“Melody, are you at the flat?” 

She confirmed that she was and Mycroft continued

“Good, stay there, I’m on my way, there is more he needs to know about this crime Syndicate - if she should try to leave, have Dr. Watson stop her. Given her situation she isn’t likely to if she is serious about staying alive in time to give birth to her child” he said briskly

“My dear, would you do something for me?” 

Even though he couldn’t see her, Melody nodded, hearing the seriousness in his tone

“Tell me.” She narrowed her eyes, listening to Mycrofts’ questions.

“Right. No, Not since I’ve been here, but I’ll ask now. See you soon.” with that she hung up

“Your brother wants to know if your client has mentioned anything about the prostitution ring her husband has been working on” she demanded coldly.

A couple of minutes later, the young blond emerged from the bathroom, looking a little shaky, but slightly better than before.

“Sorry, pregnancy sucks…” she said distractedly. 

However as she reached the living room, she found four pairs of eyes all directed at her with varying degrees of anger, suspicion and guarded caution. She stopped in surprise, not realizing that almost everything she had avoided explaining until now, had just been deduced and summarized without her even being in the same room

“What?” she looked between the pair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes - Mycrofts' ringtone - Run this Town JAY Z ft Rhianna
> 
> Some inspiration taken from the vid linked here (Not Mine!)
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ND5pEPF_eJI&list=PL5PGMqawejfrLdsSGyX6Q-QBRTb1P1hVw&index=5


	7. KillSwitch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They bickered and bantered back and forth, acting as though one of them hadn’t just put a projectile weapon into the doorframe, the the culprit wasn't the same woman who had been cradling a sleeping toddler five seconds before!

A single switchblade was recovered from the pocket of the womans’ grey jogging bottoms but Melody, surprisingly, found there was nothing else concealed up the sleeve of the her coat or in her socks.

She was instructed to sit in the clients chair, with John still upstairs, tending to Rosie, Melody stood in front of the door to the flat, crossing her arms and Sherlock, with his hands locked together under his chin, was sitting in his chair

“Name?” he demanded

His client sighed and her shoulders sagged in defeat

“Persephone” she admitted, tongue flicking out to wet dry, chapped lips.

Persephone looked at Melody, eyeing her weapon in Melodys’ hands...she felt bare without her normal weapon, let alone being left with nothing.

Sherlock frowned but Melody was the one to interject 

“The Greek Goddess of spring…?” she guessed

Persephone, nodded, toying nervously with her hair

“And the wife of Hades, in Greek Mythology they rule the Greek version of Hell, the Underworld. ” she added. 

Sherlock didn’t comment at first but eventually questioned

“What’s it called then, this...criminal gang? Bunch of teenagers robbing old ladies, selling weed on street corners, that sort of thing?” he questioned sarcastically

“My husband... **H** , he has this...iron hold on all the lower level gangs in London, even the most notorious ones” 

She was addressing Sherlock the majority of the time she had been speaking but he scoffed

“ **H** ? Hardly original” 

Persephone rolled her eyes

“As in Hades, of the Greek underworld” she reminded him, but tears sprang to her eyes

“The Virgo Syndicate...my husband runs it...rules it.” she muttered before lifting her head

“And definitely not ust the basic, low level stuff you’re on about” she said, with a certain amount of insult.

“I was going to leave. As soon as the baby was born, and safe with Caleb and Janet, I was going to do whatever I had to to get out of the country...The Virgo has money obviously...lots of it. Even if I took...half, or even all of what I could get access too, not to mention what I could get if I really tried hard, that wouldn’t even make a dent in what Hades actually has” 

Persephone had tensed, clenching her jaw, looking between Sherlock and Melody, who had crossed her arms, phone still in hand. The wife of the gangster leader, H , got to her feet and moved for the open door of the flat, Persephone put her hand to the door frame as she was about to make her hasty exit.

_ ‘Thwack’ _

Persephone didn’t so much as flinch when the throwing star hit and embedded itself into the wood just above her middle finger. She looked from Sherlock to Melody; the latters stance made it very clear who had thrown the weapon. 

Melody straightened and walked forward calmly

“I don’t think so. My husband is on his way, and I think he’d very much like to hear what else you have to say about this Crime Syndicate you’ve been helping your husband rule, your highness” she hissed, wrenching the Shuriken from the thick wood of the door frame.

Sherlock smirked proudly.

“Mrs Hudson isn’t going to like you anymore” 

Melody put her hand over the deep indent and looked at Sherlock innocently

“I’m going to pay for that!” she argued, turning back to Persephone

“Sit” she ordered, gesturing loosely to the sofa. 

Wide eyed, Persephone did so with an angered expression while Melody relaxed and smiled

“Good, that’s better. Tea, anyone? Persephone, I’ll see if I can find some lemon to put in yours, it’ll settle your stomach” she said,her tone clipped but cordial.

Sherlock called over his shoulder as he leapt into his chair

“Biscuits would be nice too!” 

A second later a full, unopened packet of digestives soared through the kitchen from the entrance and into his hands.

“And tidy up a bit in there, Mel, I’m running out of space for my experiments!”

Melody shouted back as she began making tea

“I’m not your bloody maid Sherlock Holmes!” she retorted

Persephone watched the interaction with a perplexed expression, she was used to the dangers of her lifestyle, it had become second nature, but she never imagined other, ‘normal’ people living that way, but it occurred to her that, other than the one year old sleeping upstairs, these people were not normal.

The consulting detective and his companion, whom Persephone assumed was his sister, from the way they bickered and bantered back and forth, and they acted as though one of them hadn’t just put a projectile weapon into the doorframe: the same woman who had been cradling a sleeping toddler five seconds before!

Melody put the cup of lemon tea in front of her and asked Persephone if she was alright.

Persephones' eyes widened in outrage

“You nearly put a fucking throwing star through my hand!” she blurted out, leaning forward in her seat, careful not to put too much pressure on her belly.

Melody looked at her with a dead-pan expression.

“Yup. Nearly. If I’d wanted to put it through your hand I would have, the miss was deliberate, I mean…” 

Melody looked hurt, almost offended

“I’m not going to actually put a throwing star into your hand! I do have some decency, thanks very much (!).”

Persephone smirked

“In that case, I’m glad you’re...sort of on my side” she answered. 

Sherlock caught the look of respect that crossed Persephones’ face as he began to eat biscuits straight from the packet as he scanned his client intensely for more details.

At that moment John returned, immediately knowing something was wrong

“Ok, what have I missed this time?” his blue eyes darted about the living space 

Melody, who had yet to take her eyes off of Persephone, replied

“Mycroft’s on his way, apparently our Queen of the Underworld here, hasn’t told us the full story” she said, toying with the point of her Shuriken with a bitten fingernail.


	8. Word From The Underworld

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mysterious gang leader Hades sends his cousins to deal with Persephone.

Across town, in a club called The Snake Pit, Persephones’ husband H , or Hades was sat at his desk. 

**H** was tall, slender, and dark haired, effortlessly imposing and everything he needed to be to keep his family business as well-oiled and lucrative as it had been for the last three generations. He was sitting behind his desk, with his cousins gathered in a spaced out half circle around the window in the floor, during opening hours, the window would show a perfect view of the club below. 

A young woman, barely nineteen and scantily dressed, was perched on the edge of his desk, legs dangling over the edge beside his own.  **H** slipped a white ecstasy pill past the womans’ glossy lips, letting her suck his index finger in gratitude before he pulled away slowly, dismissing her with a wave of his hand, in which he carried a standard revolver, engraved with the Virgo star sign symbol.

As soon as the woman had slipped past the group of men and out of the room, H addressed the three other men. 

“Now…gentlemen...” 

The crime lord looked over at the three dark suited men before him

“The Queen of our own little...Underworld, has slipped her chains and run away. She’s become restless, bored, as of late. I’m sending the three of you to fix this. I’m through with her bullshit and you all know that the only way to leave the Virgo Syndicate is in a body bag, or in the tide of the river thames.” he stated.

Cold, ocean grey eyes scanned the other three men, all of whom looked similar, yet different enough to tell apart if required. 

**H** continued, picking up a glass of scotch from his desk

“If she refuses to come home and speak with me personally, I want her disposed of.” he took a deep sip from his drink and flicked his index finger at his cousins

“Fetch” he ordered. 

Until now, each of the men had remained taciturn, emotionless and ridgid, the men on either side of the third exited the room. H met the third mans’ gaze.

“Yes, Aries?” he asked in a clipped tone.

Hardly anyone in the Virgo gang used their real or full names, but used aliases - most of which connected to astrological signs and/or Greek Gods, or Goddess’ for female members.

“Is that...really necessary, I mean, obviously the rules apply to all of us. But she is carrying your kid…” he started.

H put down his glass, with an eerie sense of calm about him

“Aries…” he sighed

“You’re the youngest out of you, Sage and Leo, I know what it’s like to be young, just starting out...but Persephone has had many chances, a courtesy I rarely offer, but I gave her leniency, and She’s abused that.” 

**H** gestured simply as he stated this as a fact before sighing, almost in grief

“As for the baby...since she was so ready to pass it off to a pair of strangers, I don’t think she’ll mind either way if she gives birth to it or has ripped out of her by force, do you?” he smiled slowly, evilly.

“If you are able to bring her back I would be grateful, cousin, but you and your brothers are welcome to use your discretion to decide if she’s worth it.” 

Aries swallowed, keeping his face blank, his eyes void of any conscious thought or feeling.

“Right. Just wanted to be clear,  **H** . ” he said.

Turning and grasping the door handle but before he exited, a single shot was fired, missing Aries head by a few inches, still, the younger cousin of Hades looked back to the desk without a word, or any hint of shock. Lowering the smoking gun casually, Hades met his cousin gaze with a cold, soul freezing stare

“And Aries...since you did such a good job on that pathetic couple hoping to take away my child, I’ll forgive this...flutter, of uncertainty. Just this once” 

With that, Aries nodded, and accepting that he was being dismissed, closed the door with a snap behind him.  **H** sneered and turned his plush, brown leather desk chair to the door. Hissing through his teeth.

“You’re going to regret this...Persephone., no one leaves The Virgo Syndicate unless I say.” he spat, grasping his hands to his chin.


	9. Orpheus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More is revealed about the grimy kingdom Persephone reigns over, and the game is, once again, ON.

Mycroft stepped into the flat to Sherlock playing ‘Orpheus’ on his violin, Melody loosely holding a throwing star in one hand: which from the dent in the doorframe apparently she’d already used to prevent Persephone from leaving.

Closing the door Mycroft cleared his throat

“Melody, I requested that, should she… ” he inclined his head to Persephone

“Attempt to leave, to have John deal with her?” 

Melody shrugged

“He was taking care of Rosie, what was I supposed to do?” she retorted, eyeing her husband, he was carrying an armful of documents and emanating that powerful, intimidating presence that sent some of the nations highest members in government scurrying, and immediately Melody was put at ease.

Sherlock, still playing his instrument, turned to his sibling

“Very presumptuous of you brother mine, to assume we needed your impute.” he stated, finishing his musical piece with a flourish.

Mycroft strolled to Melodys’ side, smirking

“Well, I am the smart one after all, Sherlock.”

The consulting detective stepped up onto the sofa beside Melody, who was trying not to sink into the center of the seat, given his added weight. But almost as quickly as he had gotten up there, the detective turned and stepped up onto the table and over it, landing with a silent bounce on the thinly carpeted floor

“And I’m the grown up, you heard mummy, she and father have always thought so…” he retorted in joyful yet a darker tone

Melody felt her husband tense beside her and snapped her head in her brother-in laws-direction

“Sherlock, that’s enough!” she warned protectively, this was still a point of contention between the brothers.

After some intervention from Melody, the words spoken between Mycroft and his mother immediately after Sherrinford had been forgiven and their...limited familial relationship improved But Melody knew how deeply the words had originally cut into her husband. 

Sherlock had defended his brother for his efforts in attempting to be kind by concealing Eurus from them, the younger brother couldn’t help but bring it up during their petty sibling arguments so Melody would always intervene as soon as she felt Sherlock was going too far.

“Now, if we can forget the sibling rivalry for a bit. Mycroft, what is it you found?” Melody urged.

Mycroft nodded softly to his wife, with a smug look at his brother, who was clearly about to interrupt until Melody shushed him.

Mycroft looked down at Persephone with a stern gaze

“Now, you are going to tell us everything, and this time I do mean everything , about your husbands Crime interests...it goes beyond recreational Drugs and Gun running.

Melody and Sherlock stared at him, Mycroft smirked

“Elementary , brother mine. And even more obvious should one spend more than five seconds in this young womans’ company. Expensive necklace, but she is uncomfortable wearing it, stolen or bought with ill gotten gains, drug money most likely…”

Persephone frowned, speaking up

“Maybe I just don’t wear jewelry in general?” 

Mycroft gave her a look but went on.

“Perhaps, but there are tan lines of various lengths around your neck and collarbone - she's' clearly used to jewelry but doesn’t enjoy wearing it, yet does so anyway because she is expected to.”

Melody smirked

“Go on” she urged, to Sherlocks displeasure, he was still getting over the shock that Mycroft had noticed these things and he hadn’t!

Knowing he had one up on his sibling, Mycroft did as his wife requested.

“Then there’s the drug withdrawal.” 

Sherlock frowned

“Oh come on, I would have seen that at least...!” 

Mycroft, however, interrupted.

“Not something opium based, a stimulant, but not herion of course…”

“Of Course” Melody exhaled.

Mycroft shifted in his position, easily sifting through the information and data his brain had processed while recalling facts on every drug possible that might be the blond young womans choice of ‘escape’

“But still not something under the Class B category, not Ketamine or Cannabis…” he went on

“No, her symptoms would be much more severe. But the signs are still there, if you’d observed, Sherlock” 

Mycroft shot his brother a smug look, Sherlock looked like he’d just swallowed a lemon and been banned from every possible case for a week. Mycroft took a step forward, glancing down the hallway, features creased slightly upon hearing the client retch once more, he then continued.

“The indication of insomnia; the bruising around the eyes and general fatigue, paranoia -...and the last time she ate was last night, late - something unusual that isn’t agreeing with her now, so cravings. Partly due to the pregnancy, partly due to needing something to fill whatever gap her choice of drug is leaving.”

He took another lazy step forward, fixed under Melodys emerald gaze he finished

“MDMA, or to use the common name...” this time he looked far more pointedly at Melody

“Ecstasy” 

Melody swallowed thickly, suppressing a shudder

“ _Fuck…_ ” she muttered.

Only her husband, the british government, could explain the subtle signs of a persons’ relation to criminal gang activity and drug abuse and leave her chest tight and her mouth dry.

Sherlock, acting like a petulant child with ‘sore-loser-syndrome-’ stalked forward with an angry gesture.

“If you two are quite finished with you psychological sex session…”

Persephone, wide eyed, and feeling like she may as well not have even been present in the room, spoke up 

“Is that what just happened?” she glanced at John.

Melody yelped as she was rolled out of Sherlocks arm chair, landing on the floor she was easily stepped over by said detective as he reclaimed his chair. Persephone got to her feet after rubbing her palms over her knees anxiously her hands clenched so that her long manicured nails dug into her palms. John went to her, putting a hand on her back, everyone saw her flinch and tense

“The Virgo Syndicate is mainly made of family, blood as well as distant, second cousins, uncles and all that, anyone that isn't related is either a very close, trusted friends, their wives, girlfriends brothers sisters, as long as they are….vetted and they can be trusted.” she sighed.

“I think Hades ordered the hit on Caleb and Janet - one of his cousins, most likely Leo from what I saw in the photo, probably carried it out.”

Sherlock stood up

“One of?” 

Persephone sighed

“He has three cousins, his most trusted lackeys, Leo, Sage and Aries…”

Melody crossed her arms and leant against the entryway to the kitchen

“Jeez, does anyone ever opt for a normal sounding name anymore? I mean my life is starting to sound like a Greek Tragedy here….”

Mycroft looked at her

“You’ve only just noticed?” 

Melody smirked, trying not to laugh at her husbands’ dry humor.

Sherlock watched Persephone 

“And you’re planning to leave.” he deduced

Obviously Persephone had no idea how the detective could have known that, she hadn’t mentioned that detail, but she’d heard a lot about Sherlock Holmes, the consulting detective who could practically tell you your life story from a single glance

“Hades knows about the baby there’s no way I can go home, or to any of my friends...they’ll rat me out in a heartbeat…”

Melody turned to her brother-in-law

“Police protection order?” she suggested

“For the wife of a crime lord? Really Melody…”

Persephone made a defeated sound

“They all have have contacts...a fuck-ton of them, in the police force. Most of us have records that are suspiciously docile considering the true nature of the Virgo...they can never get anything to stick because everyone knows someone who knows someone, from prison guards to D.I’s”

John approached in an attempt to calm her

“Alright, it’s ll be alright, don’t stress yourself out…-I mean, yeah stupid thing to say, but you’ll play havoc with your blood pressure and it’s not good for the baby, ok?” He encouraged, 

The woman darted away from his comforting hand.

“I never wanted to get pregnant in the first place, not now, not ever! That isn’t me, If I wasn’t bloody pregnant in the first place I might not have felt so strongly about leaving! I could have had more time to play with"

Other than Melody, everyone had become tense, already sensing where Persephone’ angered tirade was leading. Persephone put a hand to her stomach and gestured with her other, several strands of golden blond hair fell free from the messy bun she had scraped it into as she continued

"hell I might have even been able to put up with Hades and the Virgo lifestyle for the rest of my life if my infernal maternal hormones made me want to protect this kid, even if I’m not keeping it!”

Mycroft, with his unsettled gaze fixed on Melody, saw his wifes’ jaw clench as she grit her teeth, meanwhile John tried again to calm Persephone down - knowing from experience that most of her words were simply blurted out in stress and fear, but still he and Sherlock glanced between Melody and his client

Sherlock hoped Mycroft would intervene, but apparently he was more affected than he was letting on, as his brother, Sherlock could tell. 

Melody was turning white as Persephone continued

“I’d rather lose it than have it be born into the Hell that I live in every day-!” she shouted.

_‘Crack’_

The resounding slap happened before anyone could blink, and was hard enough to jerk Persephone’ head to one side for a moment but she recovered immediately with a smirk.

“Not bad, but I’m used to far worse, now back the fuck off you crazy bitch!” Persephone gave Melody a shove, hard enough to make Melody stumble

But she rounded on Persephone immediately once she’d recovered. 

“How can you talk like that? How could you wish your own baby dead, how dare you want that for an innocent child ?” Melody demanded.

Before the impending screaming match could ensue, putting Persephone under more stress and further upsetting Melody, Mycroft took a step forward, but Sherlock was nearer and quicker.

Grabbing the top of Melodys’ arms, hard, he pushed her towards John, and retrieved the flick knife which Melody had thrown to one side seconds before delivering the slap to Persephone's cheek, the weapon had almost slid under the coffee table, but Sherlock pocketed the knife. Melody, with her hand trembling and red from delivering the slap, stalked to the back of the flat, slamming the door of Sherlocks’ bedroom.

Hearing the sound of various objects being thrown, some breaking, some sounding like they were just bouncing off the bedroom walls, other than that Melody was eerily silent behind the closed door. John moved to follow and intervene but Sherlock stopped him with a look of acceptance and understanding

“Don’t John, just...let her. There’s nothing that can’t be replaced.” he said, his tone flat, almost saddened.

John looked to Mycroft, who had been staring at the floor, but raised his cold grey eyes slightly at his brothers’ words, the shake of his head he offered Dr Watson was subtle, minute at best. He hated to admit it but Persephone's’ thoughtless rant had struck something within him as well, He closed his eyes once again, momentarily upon hearing Melody hitting the bedroom wall.

Persephone didn’t blink as she looked straight at the closed door Melody had disappeared behind, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide.

“And I thought Virgo bitches were crazy reactive” she quipped, earning a heated glare from John, Mycroft, and Sherlock, who answered.

“If you want help, _Persephone…_ ” he hissed coldly

“You won’t talk like that in front of Melody, my brother or any of us again. If you make the choice to do so, I will bring you down to the doorstep myself, lock the door and leave you to this...Virgo Syndicate” he said, in a colder tone than he’d ever heard Sherlock use.

Persephone, having calmed down from her own hormone/stress induced rant, had no idea exactly what she had said and why it seemed to set off this close group of friends and relations, realizing she had messed up, badly, and, since the police were an obvious none-option, she had to get back onto these peoples good sides if she wanted to safely give birth to her baby, find it a home, and leave the country, away from Hades and the Virgo Crime Syndicate.

Straightening her posture, and with a serious expression she took a breath

“Right. It won’t happen again, but if she does that again…”

Mycroft interjected, moving forward to flank his younger brothers’ side

“My wife had every right to react as she did, and I will not pretend otherwise. But I also know her well enough to ensure that a sincere and abject apology will be coming your way once she is…”

Something shattered in the bedroom at the back of the flat

“Done.” Mycroft said.

“And let it be a warning, my brother will most certainly keep his promise to physically put you out on the street himself, while I, using my minor position in the british government, will personally ensure that should this, Virgo Crime Syndicate leave anything of you to be found or even slightly identifiable, it will not be that way for long” he said, in a similar tone to his brother.

Persephone nodded: Hades insisted his interest and influence in Londons’ small arms dealing, drug racket, mainly Ecstasy, not much else, and general dealings, were minimal. ‘Minor role’ meant the complete opposite, especially in her world. The Underworld she helped rule, yet despised

“I can’t remain there...I can’t stand being around **H** , his family or any of them, any of...it any longer..” 

Persephone looked at Mycroft, then at the door at the back of the flat, the noise from inside had gradually stopped by now.

“I will apologise to her as well, once she has done the same to me. I really do want to start again, away from Hades, away from The Virgo, and Sherlock Holmes…” she looked at the consulting detective

“ you’re the only chance I have of making that happen.” she said

Sherlock stared her down, gathering information...data…possibility of deception, finding none, Sherlock turned his back to her, John and Mycroft beside and slightly in-front of him, eyeing Persephone with slight mistrust as Sherlock paused, speaking in the way that he did when thinking out loud.

“Dangerous, risky, almost certainly impossible…” 

He fixed his gaze out of the kitchen window.

“The game is on.”

Sherlock spun around with the speed of a bullet, making Persephone jump slightly before he walked towards her.

“We’ll take your case. But I’ll need more on this Virgo Syndicate, I’m not accepting this case just because of your situation, Persephone, but because of everything surrounding it.” 

Sherlock leapt, silently, into his armchair, ready to hear what she had to say but Persephone was shocked 

“Wait, didn’t you hear what I said? The Virgo Syndicate has prison guards, Hospital directors, Lawyers, Judges...and everything in between and above!” she insisted

“Lawyers, judges...doctors, whatever. Everyone knows someone, somewhere that will keep Virgo members out of prison for any significant amount of time, if not out of jail completely!” 

Sherlock stepped forward.

“Not for much longer...I’m going to bring the whole sordid Syndicate crashing down to Hell.” he promised. 

“Now, go on…before I get bored and change my mind.” Sherlock urged - a bit of pressure worked so well in getting people to talk after all.

“The corruption, blackmail...the gun running, MDMA deals... all of it.”

Persephone looked down, almost in shame.

“The one thing...H detests more than anything in our world...is rats.” she started.

Sherlock folded his hands under his chin .

“Well there’s a target on your back anyway.” he shrugged

John gestured

“Sherlock…” he scolded.

But Persephone, for the first time since entering the flat, laughed

“No, he has a point.” she said, taking a breath to steady herself.

Mycroft however, was not planning to getting embroiled with Sherlocks’ latest case any more than he already was, backed away with the silence and grace of an unseen spectre, to the back of the flat, until he reached the bedroom door.


End file.
